Dash!
by E.L. Tolad
Summary: A short story of what may have happened elsewhere in the world shortly after the outbreak of the Dragons


Calvin hid low behind the rusted newspaper vendor. At the volume his heart pumped in his ears, he swore it echoed of the walls around him. Trying to catch his breath, whenever he exhaled, Calvin let out a rushed "I'mgunnadie" -breath- "I'mgunnadie" -breath- "I'mgunnadie." Each one accompanied by a puff of steam into the icy air. He couldn't believe he was doing this. This was crazy. This was ridiculous. This was beyond all reason. This was absolutely necessary.  
Calvin peered around the side of the vendor as low to the snow covered cement as he could get. Times Square was vacant. The snow was a sick mix of brown, red and black and the gagging odor of sulfur, oil and smoke drifted thickly through the December air. Across the stretch of concrete lay his family's old apartment, and in the apartment was life for his kid sister who lay on a vent in the subway blanketed with cardboard boxes and newspapers. Her diabetes was getting worse and worse, and without her insulin by the evening she would die.  
He didn't know how he did it, but Calvin managed to evade one of those terrifying beasts that had been unleashed on New York for an hour and half, dodging in and out of allies and barely escaping a fiery death by that beast's hideous belch.  
Ok. Ok. Ok. Ok. Calvin shook his head. His 19-year old-baby face was dirty and his eyes were bloodshot and sore, but he managed to concentrate on the task at hand. That- that thing was around here somewhere. Like some small creature darting out of a sewer grate, Calvin half ran-half dove to an old snow covered eight-car pile up in the middle of the intersection. Falling face first in the filthy snow, he coughed out his relief at surviving another 50 feet. As quietly as he could, Calving inched his way through the burnt out cars toward the side of the street with his apartment. Thank God that hellish animal hadn't torched this side of the square! He could see from his vantage point that his entire building was mostly intact!  
With restored resolve, Calvin pulled his tattered coat around him tighter and keeping ever so still, focused on the dark doorway directly across from him. He was crouched in what was left of a minivan, staring out of the metal frame. With a sudden burst that surprised even him, Calvin shot out of the van and across the slippery roadway. He knew he was running fast, he could feel the snow he was kicking up on the back of his neck, shifting down his shirt and onto his bare back- which only made him run faster with an extra surge of adrenaline. But the time seemed to drag. Each step sounded like cannon fire in his head, but he was getting closer! Closer. Closer.  
Puzzled, Calvin found himself looking at the sky. It was a dirty white, with lighter spots where the sun was trying to shine through. He could seek the skeletons of the buildings rising above him, piercing the sky. Then there were stars! Lots of them! Pink, blue and green! Pain shot through Calvin's head as he hit the ground and he bit his tongue hard. It took everything he had to not holler in pain and anger at himself, but he managed to force himself to lay perfectly still on the snow covered ice he had just slipped on. What are you doing just laying here? Get up! His mind screamed at him. Calvin obeyed immediately and forsaking form or stealth, he used all fours to clamber to his door.  
There his vision tunneled once, twice, but he shook it off and laughed nervously. He spit blood from his mouth that oozed from his gnawed tongue, and rubbed the lump on the back of his head. In the security of the building, Calvin pounded up the stairs and flung open the door to his old apartment. Inside, he strode to the kitchen, which was a chaotic mess, along with the rest of the house. He tore open the refrigerator door with such force; it shook and rattled its contents. Everything was in a big pile in the middle of the unit. Broken mustard and mayonnaise jars, rotten apples and oranges, shattered eggs, and because the refrigerator was off, everything was frozen together in a sticky mess. "Oh!" Calvin cried in disgust. How long was this entire ordeal going to continue? He pulled off his gloves and dug into the tacky mess. Tossing aside unidentifiable junk, he finally found the tiny glass cylinder of his sister's insulin. With a shaky sigh of relief, he slumped against the door of the refrigerator.  
Moments later, without a thought Calvin was running back towards the subway entrance, passing the pile of cars, passing the newspaper vendor, forsaking all of his little hideouts and just ran. Skating around curbs and corners and lunging over debris, he ran-slid eight blocks. Tripping, he slid to a stop as he rounded the last corner and almost plunged into a wall of thick black smoke pouring from the subway. "NO!" He shouted. No tears came. No sobs. No grievous wails of lament, just silent, utter, horrific shock. He could feel the heat from his spot in the snow, and it was intense, but he just sat there, staring at the black cloud that snaked out of the ground.  
Over the sound of the fire roaring beneath the ground, Calvin could hear the deep raspy breath of that demonic force. Out of the smoke emerged that drooling beast. It's scales covered in soot and its gnarled horns wrapping tightly aside its head. Its brilliant orange eyes stared down at Calvin as its wet; hot lips seemed to curl up in a freakish smile. There were no thoughts to think. No emotions to feel. No last wishes. As the inferno roared out of the Dragon's throat toward Calvin, the only thing that crossed his mind before he was consumed was that he forgot the syringes. 


End file.
